Author's Note: This was originally the first chapter, but I wanted something to reflect the first chapter from A Dangerous Thing, thus this became chapter two. I'm excited to have Astrid interact with the companions of DAII, especially Hawke. As I am working on this, I will be going back and editing A Dangerous Thing. Some things will change a little and some might change a lot, so keep an eye out if you are interested, and I'll be making announcements of any updates on my page. Anyhow, enjoy, and please let me know what you think :)

THREE REASONS

At last she reached the tavern—The Hanged Man—marked by an effigy of its namesake. She could hear the clinking of drinks and drunken merriment, a familiar laugh. She stepped to the doorway, pulled back the hood of her cloak and shook her red hair free. The guardsman she had tricked into escorting her here barely hid a gasp, but Astrid wasn't insulted or upset. How else does one react to someone with a terribly scarred face? She performed her entrancing smile on him again, perturbing one from him. With her thumb, she wiped the blood from her chin, "You'll never see me again Ser, or speak of me to anyone. Go back to your post." Before he could snap from his trance, she disappeared through the tavern door.

A stranger, yet no one noticed. She was smacked with the smell of ale and stew. A drunken patron stumbled in front of her, winking before running into a table. Astrid most definitely was going to miss the festive taverns and wines of Antiva. She sighed and scanned the main room, full of Kirkwallers seeking someplace warm and dry. This was the sort of piss poor place her companion liked, and with their line of business it was easy to blend in and find others who were the same. As she wandered past the entrance, a voice carried over the rest. The only other female voice besides the barmaid currently cutting off a drunk man. Astrid sought out the source, until finally she found her. At a table, a flagon of ale in one hand and cards in the other, sitting with two others, was none other than Captain Isabela.

Relief flooded through Astrid.

The pirate didn't even notice her approach, instead worrying about flagging down the barmaid with her blue bandana. However the others did, which turned out be an elf and a man dressed in very shiny armor. The elf gave her a strong brooding glare as she stopped at the head of the table, slamming her hand on the hard surface. "Castillion sends his regards," Astrid smirked leaning against the table. From the corner of her eye, the elf was reaching for something, but was stopped immediately by Isabela's surprise.

"Astrid!" she sang, "Corff! Another round for me and one for my friend here!" Isabela finished her drink and forgot about her hand, tossing her cards on the table. "I guess this explains why none of Castillion's men have been sent after me of lately," she smirked, the gold piercing below her lip glittering in the tavern's candlelight.

Corff brought their drinks and Astrid took a seat across from Isabela, taking a swill from her ale before choking. Oh yes, she was going to miss Antivan wine terribly so. Her captain chuckled and her original companions looked on curiously. The one in the shiny armor was handsome and refined, with groomed hazelnut hair and the most admirable blue eyes. Then there was the elf, who continued to stare daggers in her direction. Astrid stared back. He had unusual frosty hair, but his markings made him different. "And if he had, you make it awfully easy to find you," she answered, forcing another gulp of the ale down, "but I reckon your fondness for duels would by why that is so."

"Only a friend would know that of you Isabela," commented the human, a genuine smile flashed her way. "I am Sebastian Vael of Starkhaven. Were you a part of Isabela's crew?"

She smiled and ultimately gave up on drinking, "For a time. We met in Denerim and traveled together, before I departed to settle matters." Isabella nodded knowingly.

"And what matters might that be?"

Astrid turned to the elf. He knows. She twitched uncomfortably and felt her scars itch beneath her gloves. "Personal matters," she retorted, giving him a warning gaze. He looked ready to snap back at her, but she stopped him. "And speaking of matters, how goes finding this Relic of ours?"

Isabela scoffed and let out an exaggerated sigh, "Anyone who says they know anything, end up knowing nothing, but—" She threw her hand up before the redhead could say anything more, "I have a good feeling we will have it back in due time."

"I do hope so, it took an awful lot of persuasion to get Castillion off our backs," Astrid answered, reminiscing.

After the Siren's Call had run a ground at the Wounded Coast, Astrid knew it was only a matter of time before the Antivan merchant would be sending for their heads for loosing the Relic. So she left Isabela in the Free Marches, glad to find herself far away from the place, and made the journey back into Antiva—which was easy considering she was not as infamous as Isabela was. However, by the time she had reached the city, Castillion had already sent his trusted henchman Hayder, and clearly he had failed. The Antivan merchant was ready to send more of his raiders after the former captain, but Astrid managed to swoop in and convince him otherwise. It took a lot of persuading—the sort of swaying that could only be taught from her pirate friend and a former member of the Crows.

The pirate captain chuckled, "I bet."

Astrid smirked, ready to make a witty comment, but Isabela's focus has wandered to the front of The Hanged Man. "They're back!" she shouted excitedly, almost more so than when the redhead walked through the door.

"But where is Hawke?" the elf inquired, leaving the pirate to sink back into her chair.

After templars and Cullen, suddenly there were three reasons why she shouldn't be in Kirkwall.

His voice met her first, absent of the usual charm and wit she remembered. His presence was different too—foreboding—making her scars throb unbearably. Astrid could hear mumbling and murmuring, her name maybe, but it was all drowned out by the voice in her head. He left us. She pinched her thigh, removing her 'second voice' and distracting herself from the shadow at her back. If she turned, he would see her. If she stood, she would draw unwanted attention to herself—especially from the elf. Astrid for the moment, was trapped.

"Sorry Rivaini, Hawke had to go home and give his poor mother the bad news." Astrid didn't know if someone's voice could be anymore smoother than his, and it momentarily distracted her form searching out an exit.

However, the mage's attention returned to her captain, who suddenly was uncharacteristically quiet and upset. "Oh," she finally piped, "No treasure?" Isabela was herself again, reaching for Astrid's abandoned drink and gulping it down.

"Plenty treasure," came that voice again from just behind her, "it's Carver."

"Carver?" Sebastian joined in.

"It was the taint—" he was talking now, moving around the table. "If I hadn't come along and found those Wardens, well...as long as he survives the Joining, Hawke won't have worse news for his mother."

Astrid saw shadows move around the table. First came a dwarf, with a tenor of a bard, who immediately gave her a curious once over. Then came Anders.

The mage was still the same if you caught him in the right light, but time had aged and tired him. The familiar smirk and earring was gone, replaced with an exhausted frown and dirt. Astrid remembered him as he was at the Circle. His help prior to her Harrowing. Their romance. His escape. She never expected to see him again.

Anders rubbed his face in his hands as he sat down, across from her, oblivious. She took the moment to slid from her seat and make way to the exit. And she would have gotten away with it if it weren't for a drunken pirate.

"Astrid! Where you going, you just got here?" Isabela shouted after her.

The mage froze and cursed under her breath as she heard a moment of surprise behind her.

"Astrid..." Anders voice carried over the commotion that still surrounded them, "Astrid Amell?" She only turned her head, narrowing her eyes at him. "It—it is you!" he stood and came around the table towards her. She immediately stepped out of reach, feeling uneasy in his direct presence. "I had heard what happened at the Circle, but I never thought you'd end up here—" he touched her arm and immediately they both recoiled. Astrid noticed his eyes spark unusually and the voice in her head was growling angrily. Anders, curious, reached for contact again.

She replied by swinging, her knuckles colliding with Anders' long narrow nose. He fumbled back, knocking over a chair and sprawled across the tavern floor. Silence filled the room.

"I taught her that!" Isabela sang proudly.

Astrid rubbed her fist. The Maker sure had a sense of humor tonight. She inhaled and cooled her flaring temper, "Do not touch me." Anders was trying to stop the bleeding in his nose, his face wide-eyed and shocked. The same look Cullen had given her. Astrid stumbled back, anxiety hitting her like a bolt of lightning. She didn't say anything else, but left The Hanged Man—fleeing for the second time that night.

Before the door swung close, the dwarfs voice carried after her. "I smell a story."